The Thousandth Man
by trek-grrrl
Summary: Poetry and fiction combined. Four ficlets based on Kipling's excellent poem 'The Thousandth Man.' A perfect depiction of Roger's and Tony's friendship. Minor violence in Stanza Four. COMPLETE. Please R&R.
1. Top Gun

The Thousandth Man by Rudyard Kipling

Stanza One "Top Gun"

"ONE man in a thousand, Solomon says,  
Will stick more close than a brother.  
And it's worth while seeking him half your days  
If you find him before the other.  
Nine hundred and ninety-nine depend  
On what the world sees in you,  
But the Thousandth Man will stand your friend  
With the whole round world agin you."

The annual USAF Air-to-Air Weapons meet, the "William Tell," was underway and this year included a handful of non-USAF teams.

The teams exhibited fierce loyalty to their own service, and derision and ridicule (and yes, even hatred) for the other branches. It was hard to believe that they ultimately served the same country and people.

Army, Navy and Marine Corps had sent their best to this competition that the USAF had dominated for so many years. This year, these "outsider" teams hoped to break that winning streak and win the coveted "Top Gun" award for their team and their service.

The first rounds of elimination had come and gone. It had been narrowed down to four teams: three USAF and, to everyone's surprise, US Army.

Of course the Air Force team would win. It was a given. Or was it?

Two of the three USAF team leaders had written off any concern with the USA team. Army? Against Air Force? Please.

They didn't know with whom they were dealing. The young men on the competing teams figured the US Army wasn't known for great pilots and airmen. Everyone assumed they're ground forces, tanks, big guns, trenches. They even forgot that the Air Force used to be the Army Air Corps.

This team knew how to fly, and fly well.

Their team leader was Lt. Roger Healey, USA Corps of Engineers. He had already exhibited excellent skills as a helicopter pilot, and had been selected to attend the USAF Test Pilot School at Edwards AFB, California. He graduated top of his class.

Unfortunately for Roger, his competition was just as good. Lt. Anthony Nelson, team leader of one of the remaining USAF teams. He, too, graduated top of his class at the Test Pilot School. In the same year.

It was a rare and unusual situation. Both men excelled in their flying skills and academics. The graduation committee, after reviewing both men's records, could come to no other conclusion than to label them both "Number One."

Nelson warned the other two USAF team leaders not to write off Army so quickly. He told them his and Healey's own history together at TPS at Edwards, and that this man was not to be trifled with. The two team leaders shrugged off Nelson's warning. Eh, he's Army. It's a non-issue.

They no longer felt that way when their two teams were promptly eliminated from competition.

The final competition had arrived. Healey and his team went over, one last time, the tactics and maneuvers they had planned on using. Healey knew Nelson's ways, his style, in mock combat and tactics. He told his men what to look for.

Nelson did the same for his team.

The final combat was the deciding factor. Team leader versus team leader, USA versus USAF, Healey versus Nelson.

The US Army won its first Top Gun Award that year, with Lt. Roger Healey leading the way.

Roger checked his watch nervously, looking around for his team mates. They were supposed to be meeting here to celebrate their victory in the William Tell competition. He was standing in front of a bar that he'd heard was decent and lively, and most importantly, off-base.

Being Army surrounded by Air Force, at Eglin AFB, Florida, was something to be nervous about. Especially since his team had just snagged the coveted Top Gun award, the first non-USAF team to do so in many years.

He'd wisely opted NOT to wear his uniform, nor any indicator that he was in the military. Being a military town, though, that was something he couldn't mask. All he would need now is "ARMY" across his forehead to announce it.

I can wait inside as easily as out here, and have a beer too, he thought. He went in and stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark, looking around at the crowd.

Good, everyone's busy having a good time, nobody cares. He went to the bar and ordered a beer.

He was wrong, however. Someone had noticed his entrance. Several people had, in fact, and uniform or not, they'd recognized him.

After a few moments of sipping his beer and recapping the day in his head, Roger became aware of a change in the room. Raised voices, not quite something he could understand. He heard "Army" a few times.

He snorted to himself. Buncha babies. Can't face a REAL pilot, can they?

He looked at the door, hoping to see his team mates' car pull up. No such luck.

Somebody bumped him, hard, as he took his next sip of beer. He splattered beer all over the counter, drawing the attention of the bartender.

Roger looked in the direction the person had gone. One of Nelson's cronies.

The same thing happened a minute later. A bump and splattered beer, and the bartender's keen eye on it all.

After the third time, Roger had had enough. He turned and went to Nelson's table.

"Nelson."

"Healey."

"Keep your trained monkeys off my back."

Nelson's blue eyes narrowed in anger. He looked at his three team mates and glowered. They looked between Nelson and Healey. Roger continued to stare into Nelson's eyes.

Nelson addressed one of the men at his table. "Is there a problem, Mackenzie?" He only out-ranked the other men by mere months, but he was still a couple of grades above them.

"No, Lieutenant, not at all. I've got no idea what," and he looked Roger up and down derisively, "ARMY has a problem with. Has a drinking problem I think."

Roger looked at the man as if he were examining a bug under a magnifying glass. He turned his attention back to Nelson.

"Your men seem to have a problem with me, Nelson. I'd suggest they find something else to think about." And he turned on his heel and went back to the beer he'd left behind.

A half hour later, Roger's team still hadn't shown up. He went to the payphone by the restroom to find out where they were. Two of Nelson's men decided they had to use the facilities and came up behind Roger.

In the darkness of the secluded, dark corridor, the men didn't miss their chance. They jumped Roger from behind, dragging him into the restroom, and started beating on him. Nobody would be the wiser. He didn't even have the chance to cry out, it had happened so fast.

Nelson looked toward the restroom, wondering what was taking the guys so long. They'd been gone for over five minutes. He glanced around at the crowd to see if his two team mates were jawing with other USAF personnel. Then he noticed Roger was no longer at the bar.

Oh, God, he thought, those clowns have done it! As he ran toward the payphones and restrooms, Healey's three team mates were coming in the door. They recognized this USAF lieutenant, of course, the team leader of their final battle.

One made a grab for Nelson's arm as he ran by. Tony ripped his arm from the other man's grasp and ran to the restroom door, throwing it open.

The two men were standing over Healey, who was on the ground, barely able to sit up, blood pouring out of his broken nose.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE?" Nelson yelled.

Before anyone could move or say anything, one of Roger's team mates burst in behind Nelson, and froze, seeing Roger on the floor. He jumped Tony from behind.

The melee that ensued was fierce. The team leaders' mates had taken it upon themselves to fight for the glory of the USAF and US Army, no matter what the cost. Roger was still on the floor bleeding. Tony was grabbing anyone he could to separate the crowd, his men on one side, Healey's on the other.

Finally, after the first crazy moments of the fight, Nelson had managed to separate both sides. Somewhere along the way, Tony's third team mate had joined in the fun. So one side had three USA men lined up, the other three USAF, and Tony and Roger in between.

Nelson reached his hand down to help Healey up.

Tony glared at Mackenzie, knowing he would be the one who had started it all. Tony was the tallest of all the men there, and used it to his advantage for a change. He stood in from of Mackenzie, deliberately close, to intimidate him.

"What do you have to say for yourself, mister?" he said quietly. Dangerously.

The man glared at Roger and his team mates. "Not a word, Lieutenant."

Tony continued to stare at the shorter man, his piercing blue eyes drilling into him. Mackenzie finally started to shift foot to foot.

Tony relented and turned to the other men. "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"

Nobody spoke. Mackenzie finally did. "Lieutenant, he's ARMY! What the hell do YOU care what we do? No MP's around to bust us, why not?"

Uh oh, he thought. Wrong answer. Nelson turned that icey glare on him again.

"We are officers of the United States Air Force and we are expected to conduct ourselves as such. Lieutenant Healey has done nothing to you."

"Yeah, except kick your ASSES all over the place today!" one of Roger's men yelled.

"Shut it, Michaels!" Roger commanded from behind the paper towel on his nose and mouth. He nodded to Nelson to continue.

Tony turned to all of his team mates. "Whether you like it or not, Healey's team won fair and square. It was a good competition. Our team and his both gave the best that could be given. We need to accept that. The Air Force isn't going to fold because ARMY here," and he indicated Roger, smiling at him, "beat the pants off us today. We always have next year, you know."

Nelson's team couldn't believe what they were hearing. He was sticking UP for Army? What the hell? The men maintained their scowls, Army to Air Force, their team leaders being the only thing that stood between them and beating the living daylights out of one another.

Tony turned to Healey. "Are you going to report this?"

Roger looked around at the men, both his and Air Force. "No, I don't want to make waves. We'll be leaving Florida, and I don't have any intention of ever coming back."

Tony was relieved. As the leader of their group, he would also have been implicated, although he had nothing to do with starting it. He clapped Roger on the back, turned to face the men.

"Well, I'm going to buy a round of drinks. Any of you are welcomed to join Healey and me, if you think you can act like officers and gentlemen for one night."

The next day, as Roger's team was preparing to leave, Nelson tapped on their dorm door.

"Healey."

"Nelson."

Tony handed him a file folder. "I just got this in my mailbox, I thought you might want to see it before you left."

It was an announcement that the recently-formed National Aeronautics and Space Administration was seeking 'astronauts,' and all interested personnel should present themselves at 0730 this coming Thursday for review and possible consideration.

Nelson was grinning as he watched Healey read it.

Roger's eyes lit up as he looked at Tony. "Astronaut?"

Author's Note: The USAF's Air to Air Weapons Meet presents the "Top Gun" award. The Fighter meet named William Tell is a competition that pits the best Fighter-Interceptor aircrews from around the Air Force. This competition has been going on for decades. The William Tell is conducted by the 53d Weapons Evaluation Group, centered out of Eglin AFB, Florida. (Information from the Eglin AFB website.) Addendum: Sorry about reposting, I messed up the "export" feature.


	2. The SR71

The Thousandth Man Stanza Two The SR-71 

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show  
Will settle the finding for 'ee.  
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go  
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.  
But if he finds you and you find him.  
The rest of the world don't matter;  
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim  
With you in any water.

"Call it!" Tony said as he flipped the quarter in the air.

"Heads!" Roger answered.

Tony looked and smiled, showing Roger the results. Tails.

Tony clapped Roger on the shoulder as they hiked across the tarmac to the secured hanger. "Ha! I get the pilot's seat. Better luck next time, Healey."

Roger didn't sulk for long; he was too excited. They were going to be flying a proto-type high-altitude plane, that would eventually be designated SR-71 Blackbird. Just to be IN the plane was thrilling enough!

Tony took the opportunity to talk to Roger during their trek across the hot concrete. "Roj, Jeannie's gone to her mother's for the week. She and I...well, had a bit of a fight."

"Oh, no, what this time? Did you look at a girl at the supermarket again?"

Tony chuckled. "No, I wish it was that simple. I ordered her to stop interfering with my work. I found out that when we go out like this, she 'tags along,' to keep an eye on me. On us. I told her to stop it and she didn't want to."

"Did you send her to her mother's, or did she go on her own?"

"A little of both. We were both so mad, she said, 'I am going to MY MOTHER'S' and blinked. A few seconds later, a little note dropped down that said, 'One week.' And that was the last I heard from her."

Roger chuckled. Jeannie's mercurial temper often provided variety to their lives. "Sounds like a good cooling off period. By the time she returns, you two will have had a chance to think about it."

They approached the first of many security checkpoints, ID's at the ready.

"Yeah, I think you're right. At least I won't have to worry about her peering over my shoulder on THIS flight!"

Security around the mysterious black plane was tighter than before a space launch. After Nelson and Healey got through the screening process, they donned the last of their flight gear.

Tony gave Roger his traditional thumbs up as they took their appropriate seats. This was going to be a BLAST!

The take-off and climbing to altitude went off without incident, and Tony began putting the plane through her paces, as their flight plan indicated. He switched to the private band to talk to Roger.

"So, you don't think I have anything to worry about?" he asked.

"Not a thing."

They were careful about what they said; it may have been called a private band, but they knew radio waves traveled. They made sure they said nothing revealing, in case certain nosy ears at NASA were listening in. Which they were.

"Roj, you know that..."

FOOM! They felt something from the left wing. An alarm on their panels began flashing red, signals began beeping as system after system went to critical status.

Tony and Roger went into automatic mode, doing a rapid systems check, Tony contacting the tower to tell them they were in distress. He looked around, and all he could see was blue ahead and brown behind. They were too high up to discern specific land formations.

He had to make a decision, and make it fast: delay much longer and they'd go down over the Atlantic Ocean. Eject now, and they would most likely land and live. If the plane remained intact, it would go down in the water and not cause death and destruction below. And the top-secret plane would not be seen by the curious.

"ROGER!" Tony yelled. "FIVE SECONDS TO EJECT!" Roger prepared himself.

"ONE!" and they were airborne, the plane continuing toward the ocean.

Having both tested proto-type craft for years, they had done this routine before. This was one of the few times they had ejected at such high altitude, however, and even though they retained their portable oxygen gear and crash helmets, the cold, rarified air was affecting them.

Roger watched Tony, who was looking at his watch, clocking the descent and the altimeter. Tony would signal when it was time to pull the cords. If they did too soon in this thin air, it could adversely affect their descent and worse yet, damage the chutes.

Tony lifted four fingers, counting down one at a time. "NOW!" Tony screamed needlessly, his command whipped away by the wind.

The skin exposed on their faces and hands was beginning to go numb from the cold. It was affecting their descent as well: the cold dry air did not grab their parachutes as effectively as the heavier warm air below, and they plummeted faster than they were used to.

I'm not going to do it, Tony thought. I am NOT going to call Jeannie!

He knew once they hit the heavy blanket of warm, moist air that hangs over Florida their descent would be closer to what they were used to, and they could land safely.

He looked over to Roger, who had drifted a little but was still close enough so they could see one another's faces. Tony smirked and shrugged, almost like, Oh well, just another day!

His keen eye looked closer at Roger, sensing something wrong. He saw a thin dark line on Healey's neck.

Tony motioned to his own neck, signaling, "What's going on?"

Roger's hand reached up to feel it, and came back with blood. Roger felt up the length of wetness to his right ear. More blood. The rapid descent had caused his ear to bleed.

Roger grinned back at Tony to indicate he was okay. It wasn't much. Hurt like hell from the rapidly changing air pressure, but that was repairable. Making a 'soft' landing was all that mattered.

Tony grinned back. He suddenly felt his own ear screaming in pain and felt the wet trickle. Almost at the same moment, the vertigo hit him and he took a deep breath of oxygen. The dizziness abated for a few seconds, then came back full-force. Tony passed out.

Roger saw Tony's head fall forward, dangling limply over his chest, moving back and forth with the motion of the wind and the chute.

"TONY!" he screamed. "TONY! WAKE UP!"

Roger looked down. The cloud layer below him did not look threatening, only the scattering of cumulus clouds common on an early Florida morning. They were about to hit the temperature inversion of cool dry air meeting warm moist air. He knew that would 'catch' the chutes more effectively, and they may yet make a safe landing.

Until they got through the clouds, he could not know where they would be landing, or how Tony would fair, being unconscious still. He was praying Tony would come to prior to hitting the ground.

The whole process, from ejection to getting through the cloud layer, seemed to take forever, but they were through. Swamp, almost as far as the eye could see. And Tony unconscious.

Roger couldn't maneuver his chute any closer to Tony, for fear of entangling them both. He screamed at Tony a few more times to no avail. Tony was going to hit those trees, and there was nothing Roger could do about it!

In the last few of those timeless seconds, the trees and water seemed to rush at Roger. At least Tony won't feel it, was one of his last thoughts, and the two ripped through the canopy of the trees, chutes entangling in the massive branches.

The momentum of their descent carried them through, but amazingly the trees actually helped. Roger jerked to a stop. He only had a microsecond of relief, when he realized that Tony was still falling!

A low branch had caught Roger, stopping him short of the dark algae covered swamp, but Tony's momentum carried him through and he hit the water with a smack.

"SHIT!" Roger screamed, grabbing his knife and cutting the parachute harness off, freeing himself so he could swim unhampered. Time was counting down in his head. He knew he only had seconds to get to Tony before his best friend drowned.

He let himself drop into the murky water, ignoring the pain in his ear and head and swam as fast as he could to Tony. He called out, breathing hard and swimming, "JEANNIE!" Nothing. "JEANNIE, TONY NEEDS YOU!" He couldn't call out and swim at the same time. He had to get Tony. He couldn't wait and see if he could summon Jeannie or not. What a time to see if I CAN call her, he thought, as he got to the portion of Tony's chute still exposed.

After making himself hyperventilate by gulping a few deep breaths, Roger grabbed the thin chute cord and he dove as hard as he could, following along that lifeline to Tony. Fortunately, Florida swamps were rather shallow, so he didn't have to go far. The water pressure was beginning to take its toll on his already-damaged ear, and Roger fought a wave of dizziness, keeping his eyes ahead to prevent disorientation.

He could see the shape of Tony just ahead. The cord that guided Roger ended abruptly. It had been caught in a snag of tree hidden beneath the surface. Roger could see Tony was sandwiched amongst the roots, which had caught him before he'd hit bottom. Precious air was bubbling out of Tony's nose. The oxygen mask had been ripped off and bubbled where it had fallen.

Seconds continued ticking away in Roger's brain. Determination kept the desperation at bay. For now.

After an eternity, Roger was able to reach Tony. He grabbed the unconscious man's arm and tugged. It wasn't going to be easy, he knew. He tugged again. This is getting nowhere, a part of his brain screamed. Do something NOW!

Without thought, Roger braced himself on the lower root, grabbed the larger portion that was pinning Tony and pulled, calling on reserves of strength he wouldn't consciously think he had. But he wasn't thinking consciously, he was reacting. Thinking was for later, when they were out of this.

The surge of adrenalin did its job, and under the water Roger heard and felt the branch weaken and snap. The bubbles weren't coming out of Tony's nose any longer. Roger knew he was close to being too late.

He tore the remainder of the harness off Tony, wrapped his arms around his friend's chest, planted his feet on the root stump and PUSHED as hard as he could, making an arrow to the surface.

Keeping his arm around Tony, and Tony's face above water, Roger managed to get them both to the water's edge. Calling on what little strength he had left, Roger heaved Tony onto dry land and crawled up next to him, mumbling the seconds to himself, panting for breath. In real time the entire process had not taken very long, but Roger's sense of time was warped. To him, it seemed like ten minutes had gone by, surely long enough for Tony to have suffered brain damage!

Anoxia or not, Roger was determined to save Tony, and began cardio-pulmonary resuscitation. He counted to himself as he alternated between compressions and respirations, over and over. He could and would continue indefinitely, if he had to. Tony's pale drawn face was causing Roger to despair.

"Come on, you son of a bitch, don't DO this to me, Tone!" Roger wailed. His body had got into the rhythm, and he could think now, his hands working automatically on Tony's chest.

"Don't" compress "do" compress "this" compress "to" compress "me." he recited out loud, pausing to give two deep breaths into Tony's mouth.

Back and forth Roger worked. He paused to check the pulse in Tony's neck, and was encouraged to feel a slight flutter.

He turned Tony on his side and gave him a couple of wacks on the back. If this didn't work, he was going to continue the CPR.

Roger was overwhelmed with relief when Tony's body suddenly shuddered and he spat out a mouthful of water, pausing a second then gasping for air like a landed fish.

Roger leaned down to his ear, "TONY! Are you all right?" He shook his best friend, at first gently but more roughly as the despair began to sneak in again. "Tony! Answer me!" He had to be assured there'd been no oxygen deprivation.

Tony collapsed back onto the ground, his body no longer tense. Roger was afraid he'd passed out again, until he looked down to see Tony's blue eyes on him. And he was smiling. He's there! Roger thought with relief.

"Roj?" Tony queried weakly. The one word triggered another coughing fit. Roger supported him while Tony coughed violently, expelling the rest of the fluid from his lungs. Roger didn't mind: a loud vigorous cough was preferable to no cough at all!

Roger called on one more spark of strength and dragged Tony to lean more comfortably against a huge tree. The two collapsed like that, exhausted, and didn't say anything for a few moments.

Tony turned his head toward his best friend. "Roj?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, man."

(Author's Note: I don't know IDOJ canon as well as I'd like. I asked in three forums if Roger could call Jeannie, and if Jeannie could tell when Tony was in danger, and received no answers. So I wrote this under the assumption neither is true. Nitpickers, please forgive me in advance. I tried.)


	3. December 1968 A Drabble

The Thousandth Man 

Stanza Three

You can use his purse with no more talk  
Than he uses yours for his spendings,  
And laugh and meet in your daily walk  
As though there had been no lendings.  
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call  
For silver and gold in their dealings;  
But the Thousandth Man he's worth 'em all,  
Because you can show him your feelings.

"December 1968" (A Drabble.)

Tony would not leave his side. The flu had hit Roger like a sledgehammer. He'd been fighting it for three days. The doctors were guarded on his prognosis. Thousands had already died.

Tony didn't think of work, barely thought of Jeannie. She would check on him, provide comfort when she could, but she could do nothing else.

Tony talked to Roger about their past, their future together, holding his hand.

Roger listened, unable to speak. He'd sleep when Tony, exhausted, would collapse in the chair.

In despair, Tony's head fell to Roger's shoulder. "Roj, don't leave me."

Roger smiled. "Never."


	4. Jeannie

The Thousandth Man by Rudyard Kipling 

Stanza Four "Jeannie"

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,  
In season or out of season.  
Stand up and back it in all men's sight -  
With that for your only reason!  
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide  
The shame or mocking or laughter,  
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side  
To the gallows-foot -- and after!

She moved around the "room," if that's what you could call it, picking up the used dishes. Her exile in this goddess-forsaken land had gone on for four interminable weeks. She kept track of the days, the hours, the minutes, since she'd last seen her Master.

Her cousins were over at the Atrium, as they'd dubbed it, playing Jackals & Hounds, a favorite for thousands of years. Every night, without fail, for untold years, they've ended their evenings this way. No reason to break tradition now, was there?

The oldest cousin, Yusel, laughed uproariously at his younger brother, Hamal. "Got you, brother!"

The younger scowled, rose up and stomped off. Like he did every night.

Do they not ever get tired of that? Jeannie wondered. Every night, same thing: Yusel wins, Hamal stomps off. He went to sulk in his usual place, his corner where he'd set up his sleeping accomodations.

For one being used to any comfort, any desire at her whim, this was torture. She couldn't do things just by blinking them. Her cousins had bound her powers, she was weak, she was (dare she say?) "normal." For the first time since she'd become a djinn, she was like anyone else, her abilities effectively locked up by her elder cousin. She was nothing.

She set the dishes down with a slam, and Yusel looked at her.

"Cousin, behave yourself as a proper woman!"

She turned pleading eyes to him, once again begging, "PLEASE honored cousin, let us go HOME then!" Ha, honored cousin, she thought. But if she even insinuated anything but utmost respect, he would beat her, as was his right.

His black eyes drilled into her. "NO! Not until the poison of that" and he oozed the name out "NELSON is out of your mind, your heart. He is not worthy of a daughter of our house!"

"He IS worthy! He loves me! He is strong, intelligent, as required. He is brave, he goes to the stars, the Moon, in their own craft. That is not brave to you? He does not need to use the powers of the djinn to make himself a wonderful man!" She regretted it the instant she said it.

He reached across and cuffed her for insolence. She rolled with it, to take the sting away, knowing she'd spoken out of turn.

She slunk back to where she'd slammed the dishes down, ashamed of her reaction. The dishes were not at fault, after all. Her cousins knew that she, without her powers, was terrified, helpless. They'd get her to crack, get her to forget about this, this... PERSON that had so fascinated her for years.

If that was the condition for their returning to their homeland, then here they'd stay. Tony was forever in her heart, no passage of time would change that.

She had tried to discreetly find escape routes from this ancient complex, knowing such structures often had little tunnels. Desperation drove her on. If Yusel caught her, she'd get a sound beating for her efforts.

They left her to her own thoughts, out in the open, looking around and waiting. After a few minutes of standing there, a wind wafted her way from the cliffs. The warm gentle breeze reminded her of strolling on the beach in Florida with her Master at the end of a scorchingly hot day. She closed her eyes, losing herself in her memories of her beloved Master. That never failed to raise her mood, if even for a short time.

She looked back to the ruins, the hovel they'd called "home" for the last four weeks. Yusel was playing a solo game, Hamal was doing his post-game sulk. They weren't paying attention to her. She wandered away from them, toward a clearing.

She stopped at the barrier they'd set her. This far, no further, Yusel decreed. And he'd know, too. She gazed in the distance, toward where she knew the main road through this land was. So close, and yet so far. All she'd have to do is run for it, wave someone down, phone home. She knew the phone number, of course. Her Master had made her learn their address and phone number, just in case. This was the "case" he must have been thinking of, she thought.

But even if, by small chance, she DID get to the road and call home, how would she ultimately get there? Where would she wait while her Master found her?

She continued on, face down, shuffling her feet, kicking a particularly attractive rock she found, when she heard it. In the distance, toward the road. A buzzing sound. She quickly looked back, to see if the cousins were following her. They were not.

She couldn't go past the barrier, but she could go right up to it. She got as close as she could, and looked, scanning the horizon for that buzzing sound. She squinted, trying to focus, and to her complete amazement, she saw a vehicle off in the distance. A vehicle made for desert travel. She began to jump up and wave madly, not making too much noise, trying to get the driver's attention. Something was happening, someone was coming!

Could it be ANTHONY? Hope beyond hope!

Her keen eyesight kept watch on the vehicle. Little did she realize that it was her friend Roger Healey at the wheel! It approached the ruins, then turned back. She made one more futile attempt to be seen, but it was already heading back toward the main road. Her hopes dashed, her depression returned.

She turned around to go back to the cousins and their humbled abode.

The next day, after a sleepless night thinking about the wondrous vehicle she'd seen, Jeannie got up to do the drudgery, as always. Her cousins could pop in whatever they wished for comforts, so the food was laid out for her to finish preparing. Of course, they don't do it already COOKED as she'd done for her Master so many times. They wanted to make her WORK, to do something besides mope. So she set automatically to preparing the mid-day meal.

She had to remain strong. She was not going to give in to her cousins, she would NOT disavow Anthony Nelson! There was nobody there to help her, so she had to help herself. By waiting it out with the cousins. They'd bore of this soon enough, in a month, a year, they weren't going to want to remain here in this horrid land.

She went out to the heap they were using for trash and debris and dumped the previous meal's remains. As she turned toward the ruins, her back toward the main road, she failed to notice the two men off in the distance, approaching their temporary home.

A few hours later, Yusel looked up from the game he was playing.

"Jeannie, tonight is your night to choose the meal, what will it be?"

She knew what she WANTED to say, what she wanted it to be... but dared not speak it. She didn't feel like eating any way.

"Whatever you wish, honored cousin, I will be happy to prepare for you and Hamal." she said meekly. She walked to the table that was suddenly laden with food, Yusel's sneer following her. Good, she'd maintained the proper attitude.

Yusel didn't know how close he'd come to death just then.

"Whatever you wish, honored cousin, I will be happy to prepare for you and Hamal," Tony Nelson heard her say. He and Roger had been there, watching the three, for a while, planning their strategy. With the two cousins having their djinn powers, Healey and Nelson couldn't just burst in.

When Tony saw the look on Yusel's face, sneering at Jeannie with such contempt, he almost put a bullet in the man's head.

Roger saw him reach for his firearm, and grabbed his hand. He hissed at him, motioning him to remain still. Tony paused, as if pondering resisting the order, and Roger stared him down.

"Tony," he hissed, "you CAN'T! If we come out now, they'll zap us to Kingdom Come and we'll have come all this way for NOTHING!"

Tony nodded his head in acquiescence, but he didn't have to like it.

He continued to watch, marking every move Jeannie made. She looked so vulnerable, so gaunt. She's not been eating, Tony thought. She must have been terrified all these weeks. He looked behind him, at the cliffs, trying to reconnoiter the immediate area for future escape paths.

"Roj, we can't delay much longer. We've got to get Jeannie somehow, and hightail it back to the city. Look at her, she's so skinny and pale." Tony couldn't hide the agony in his voice from his best friend. Roger ached for him, imagining what Tony must be going through.

Tony set his gear, his firearm, everything down, stripping down to his black pants, black t-shirt and black boots. He was going in, now. Roger watched him, knew what he was going to do. Tony had the stealth to do it quietly, but he couldn't let Jeannie know they were even there, or else her reaction would give them away. Slip in, slip out is what he'd planned.

Roger watched Nelson as he silently moved among the rocks and columns, slowly working his way toward the main "living area." Jeannie, of course, was unaware of his presence. He worked his way closer to the two cousins, watching them, seeing if they did something unusual to show how Jeannie's powers had been somehow subdued.

Roger was trailing him, not too close in case one or the other was spotted, to take a position near Hamal.

Tony froze. Jeannie was walking within two feet of him. It was all he could do to keep from jumping out and grabbing her into a huge hug, but he contained that instinct. Now more than ever, he had to think soldier, not astronaut, not officer and gentleman.

Jeannie paused as she was carrying the tray of food to her cousins. She sensed something, something she couldn't define, a presence. It was warm, it was loving. She closed her eyes, remembering that feeling, of Tony holding her in his arms, of laughing at her as he wiped ketchup off her face at their last, fateful picnic. She basked in that glow for a moment, when her cousin's harsh voice interrupted her.

"JEANNIE!" he yelled.

She started, almost dropping the tray. "Apologies, honored cousin." And she hurried to serve them.

Tony signalled silently to Roger, who was now within feet of Hamal. Nelson paced alongside Jeannie, behind the fallen columns, silent as a leopard, getting closer and closer to her and her wretched cousin. If he saw him speak that way to her ONE MORE TIME, he thought... and then it happened.

Jeannie tripped on a piece of rubble, pitched forward and spilled the entire tray of food on her cousin Yusel.

He screamed as the hot liquid, the wine, the roast pig landed on him, and before Jeannie could duck, he slammed his fist in her face, throwing her back.

Time stood still. All was motionless. Tony saw red, literally saw red, as he launched himself at Yusel, slamming the bigger man in the face, putting body and soul behind it. The man was so startled he had no chance to call on his djinn powers, as his instinct demanded. All he could do is yelp in surprise at this person who suddenly burst from the shadows, slamming fist after fist into his face, his stomach, preventing him from doing anything to fight back.

Tony couldn't stop. A part of him, the small part remaining rational, watched while it seemed like someone else's fist was pounding, pounding into the man cowering on the floor. Blood was flying everywhere. He didn't know whose it was, and didn't care. He continued on, time still motionless for him, the adrenalin pouring into his blood, driving him on. All the weeks of misery, fear, worry were pouring out of him into this pathetic fool on the ground, that had dared lay a hand on HIS Jeannie!

Healey reacted the instant he saw Tony leap out of hiding, knowing that if he didn't do the same, cousin Hamal would send them to No Man's Land, with or without Yusel's assistance. He'd picked up a chunk of rubble and, while Tony was pounding on the older cousin, Roger followed behind and slammed the chunk against Hamal's skull, dropping the man like a sack of flour to the ground.

Roger ran to Jeannie's still form, checking her pulse in her delicate wrist. He glanced up to see his best friend continuing to whail on Yusel. I wonder if I should stop him, Roger thought. He felt rather detached regarding the man's fate, after what they'd done to Tony's beloved Jeannie.

Jeannie came to and saw Roger looking at her kindly, smiling down at her. She shook her head, thinking she was dreaming. "Major Healey?" she asked, confused.

Roger reached down for her, pulling her up and steadying her as she swooned.

"You okay, Jeannie?" He saw her look at her Master, with the now unconscious Yusel at his feet.

"MASTER!" she cried, stumbling over the rubble and debris and tripping on a chunk, literally into his arms.

"JEANNIE!" He caught her and swept her up into his strong arms, where she'd dreamed to be for all of these long weeks. He kissed her passionately, holding her as closely as he could to him. Roger stood and watched, leaning against the table, smiling.

Tony and Jeannie remained that way for a time, when Roger heard Hamal moan behind him. Oh, okay, I didn't kill him. Oh well, he thought. He turned to look at the man, who was trying to rise to his feet.

"Uh, Jeannie, Tone... maybe we should think about leaving shortly? Like, now?" He motioned his head back to Hamal, who didn't look too happy with these impertinent intruders.

"Jeannie? Are you able to pop us outta here ASAP?" Tony asked her.

She smiled, with a wicked look in her eye. "Oh, yes, Master. I shall pop us ALL out of here!" And with that she, Nelson, Healey, Yusel and Hamal disappeared.

They found themselves in an exotic room, draped with tapestries, lit up with torches and candles. Mysterious incense was burning in the corners, with a smell Tony didn't want to think too much about.

The two astronauts spun around, and saw the semi-conscious Hamal still struggling to move, to rise, and the completely unconscious Yusel lying at Tony's feet. The unconscious man looked almost as if he were a prize Tony had bagged.

Roger followed Jeannie with his eyes, as she moved to an elaborate cord and pulled on it mightily. A great resounding gong vibrated through them, and within seconds Hajji appeared, taking in the scene quickly.

"You summoned me, daughter?" he asked kindly when he saw Jeannie. He was shocked by her appearance. She wasn't the usual healthy, robust djinn he'd seen last.

She bowed to him, and rose. "Yes, Hajji, I bring you a prize. Two prizes, actually." She resisted the urge to spit on Yusel.

"What has happened, young one, why do you look so sickly?" Hajji moved to her, as always concerned for the djinn under his benevolent rule.

She explained. "Cousin Yusel discovered that my Master and I were enjoying a romantic relationship. He had the idea that Anthony Nelson was not WORTHY of our family, so took it upon himself to try to convince me to discontinue a romance with him."

Roger and Tony stepped forward.

Roger spoke first. "Haj, nice to see you again, old man!"

"Major Healey, how kind of you to come along. What part did you and Major Nelson play in all of this? Were you there to rescue Jeannie from her cousins?"

"Yes, sir, Tony and I moved in and did it."

Hajji nodded his head, impressed by these two mortals. He wondered if the two had realized the danger they had been in. To come all this way from their native land, this man accompanying Jeannie's Master in the quest to free her, increased his estimation of mere mortals. He did not realize they had the mettle and bravery to take on the daunting task of facing two healthy male djinn as they did.

Hajji bowed to Roger, a small sign of respect. "Major Healey, Anthony Nelson may not have realized what he has done. In fighting Yusel, the oldest of Jeannie's family present at the time, he has proven himself worthy to be her mate."

Tony spoke up finally. "I have?"

Hajji smiled at the other Major. "Yes, Major Nelson. In fighting for her, and triumphing, you have proven beyond any doubt that you are worthy of her love and companionship. It is my honor to wish you my blessings on you both. May you both have many sons and daughters! I shall Witness such to my people and make the declaration that you have been deemed worthy. And Major Healey will be proclaimed too, as the Champion for your relationship, when he stands with you both at the bonding ceremony to come."

Hajji went to Jeannie and gently pulled her to Tony's side, placing her hand into her beloved Master's. Roger went to his two friends, putting one arm around each one's shoulder.

"Well, Tony, we knew it'd be an adventure, but who would've thought it would've ended like this, with Hajji here to give his blessing?" Roger turned to the older djinn. "What's going to happen to these two now?"

"They will be returned to their homes, with the missive that they are not to interfere ever again with Jeannie or her Master. To do so now that I have granted my blessing would be to bring down the wrath of all the people. And me." He smiled at the three. "Now, I shall send you directly home. Jeannie, alert me when it is time."

And with that, Roger, Tony and Jeannie disappeared, to return to Cocoa Beach and the next chapter of their lives together.

(Author's Note: It's been so long since I've seen IDoJ, I wasn't sure if Hajji was a "good guy" or not. I seem to recall an older guy, talking to Jeannie. So this ending may've been slightly A-U. And yeah, I plagiarized my own writing, but this depicted the idea of 'to the gallows foot--and after!' so well, I couldn't top it, Roger and Tony together risking their lives. Tony, being in love with Jeannie, had no choice but to do something. Roger didn't have to come along, but of course he did. This was TONY, after all, and JEANNIE. How could he remain behind?)


End file.
